Music of the Light
by kittycatcego
Summary: The story of the Phantom in the shadows of the Paris Opera and his love for sweet soprano Christine is a tale as old as time. But, what if there was another singing ballerina that was waiting in the wings? In this retelling of the classic story from the point of view of quiet dancer Elizabeth, let's see just how much one girl can change the Angel of Music that hides in the night...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 _Say you'll share with me_

 _One love, one lifetime_

 _Let me lead you from your solitude_

 _Say you need me with you here, beside you_

 _Anywhere you go, let me go too_

 _That's all I ask of you_

 _Then say you'll share with me_

 _One love, one lifetime_

 _Say the word and I will follow you_

 _Share each day with me, each night, each morning_

 _Say you love me_

 _You know I do_

 _Love me_

 _That's all I ask of you…_

The voices intertwine and drift through the snow-covered city of Paris, floating down, down, down and waking me from my dreams. As Christine's soprano rises triumphant over Raoul's voice I think about the meaning of their song. What wouldn't I give for a love that lasted a lifetime? My chaste lips tingle as I dream of the day they're touched by a caring kiss.

To the melody wrought by their love for each other I begin to drift back into slumber, to be suddenly brought back by a third counterpart to their tune.

 _I gave you my music, made your song take wing_

 _And now, how you've repaid me, denied me and betrayed me_

 _He was bound to love you, when he heard you sing_

 _Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime_

 _Say the word and I will follow you_

 _Share each day with me, each night, each morning_

 _You will curse the day you did not do_

 _All that the Phantom asked of you!_

Such pain! Sheer longing vibrates through the second man's voice sweetened by the heartbreak it is laced with. Who is this man? Could it be the Phantom of the Opera I've heard so much about? As the quiet falls on the snow-covered city of Paris at last I sleep, love songs trailing through to my dreams.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

 **Two months before…**

"Et un, et deux, trois et quatre," Madame counts us through the beats, rapping knees and slouched shoulders as the corps de ballet practice our new routine. "Meg et Christine, en fin! Où avez-vous été?" she frowns as the two girls join us, though she is much more lenient with her daughter and almost daughter than with any of the rest of us ballerinas. "Pardon Maman, but we saw the new managers arriving. I think our rehearsal is going to be interrupted," says Meg sweetly, to be promptly drowned out by a note so high it could break glass.

It is of course Carlotta the diva who is, as always, screeching her way through the aria just as the new managers join us from the wings. "Rehearsals, as you can see, are underway for a new production of Hannibal" comments M. Lefèvre before making his announcement "As you know, for some weeks, there have been rumours of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these are all true, it's my pleasure to introduce you to the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire: Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Giles André".

I look around me as the cast and crew all begin to clap politely, I'm not all that impressed by the looks of the new owners, although M. André does smile happily after his introduction. "I'm sure you've heard of their recent fortune amassed in the junk business" continues Lefèvre, though he's soon sternly corrected by André. This statement of course is met by quite a bit more applause, particularly from my fellow ballerinas who excitedly murmur to each other about all that money.

The men then speak their first words as managers, "We are deeply honored to introduce our new patron: the Vicomte de Chagny," which makes Christine gasp from behind me. "It's Raoul" she whispers to Meg, as she stares entranced at the man who now strides forward, "before my father died, at the house by the sea, I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. He called me little Lottie..."

"Christine, he's so handsome!" replies the usually more sensible Meg, as the Viscount begins to speak.

I'm still looking at Christine as he speaks, her usually pale face has acquired quite an excited blush now that she thinks nobody is watching her, though it deepens into a slightly angry red as Carlotta forces our patron to kiss her sweaty hand. Piangi is met with a bit more applause after his introduction, not needing any minions to boost his ego. The patron says his goodbyes and rehearsal starts anew, with Carlotta's thick accent proclaiming "He luff me, he luff me" as her ladies primp her. Christine's face must be like a brick now I think, though I don't dare look behind me now that Mme Giry has us lined up again.

* * *

"We take particular pride in our ballet, messieurs," says the ballet mistress as we start to dance. "My daughter, Meg Giry" she explains warily as André watches Meg hungrily.  
"And that exceptional beauty. No relation I hope," laughs Firmin this time, though he's now talking about Christine.  
"I think of her as a daughter also," Mme Giry again protects her ballerinas as the managers learn of Christine's status as an orphan. Now that the managers have demonstrated their lust she directs them to the side so as to continue instructing us.

Disaster strikes once Carlotta realizes just how focused the men are on us, the scantily clad _corps de ballet_. "Ah, all they want is the dancing!" she exclaims angrily before going on to shout at the managers, "Alora Alora… I hope he's as excited about the dancers as you! Because, I will not be singing!" she screams.

Of course, this is a daily occurrence, so none of the rest of us are sad to see her go, except the groveling André and Firmin, who can see their first opera dying before their very eyes.

Sadly they actually manage to grovel successfully, since Carlotta begins to croak out the what should be beautiful aria "Think of Me". One particularly off key note makes me cringe as I happen to look up and see a dark shadow above. The backdrop's rope uncurls so quickly I have no time to shout out a warning before it's made the dreadful singing stop.  
"The Phantom of the Opera!" says startled Meg, while her mother goes to look for the culprit. The shadowy figure I saw has disappeared.

This time Carlotta does, after much shouting, actually leave, which allows Lefèvre to make his excuses "Gentlemen, good luck. If you need me I shall be in Australia" before quickly exiting the opera and letting the managers deal with the chaos.  
Mme Giry adds to their consternation "I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost" she says as she hands them a creamy envelope sealed with a red wax skull, "He welcomes you to his Opera house, commands that you continue to leave Box 5 empty for his use, and reminds you that his salary is due," she states cooly, ignoring their obnoxious interjections.

Firmin throws a hissy fit as he rips up the letter "We shall now have to cancel as we have lost our star!" Judging by everyone's reactions, the junk metal men aren't making any friends here. "A full house, André! We shall have to refund a full house!"

Mme Giry, as always, is unperturbed. "Christine Daae could sing it, sir!" she says, as she brings the very girl forward, Christine looks more frightened than usual, she doesn't even realize just how lucky she is to have Madame! "Christine has been taking lessons from a great teacher."

"Who?" asks M. André seeing that this is their only hope.

"I don't know his name, monsieur" whispers the violinist's daughter.

But Madame won't take a no for an answer, "Let her sing for you, she has been well taught".

The orchestra begins to play again, when the managers reluctantly give their approval "From the beginning of the aria please, mademoiselle" .

The rest of us cast just stares awestruck as Christine begins to sing, her voice tremulous at the start before gaining confidence as the aria goes on. It's true that it's a marked improvement after "La Carlotta".

 _Think of me!_

Such control! For the second time this morning Christine's face is flushed from the effort but she's done it. We have a new soprano, just as I've always dreamt, but, unlike in my dreams, it's not me.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright alright I know this is pretty much the scene from the movie but please don't kill me! I promise the next chapter will have a bit more original content, I just really want it to seem like this happened to all the people who, like me, has seen the movie a million times. Read and review please!**

 **PS Although it's obvious, disclaimer: I own none of the bits you recognise! :(**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Opening night is always chaotic. The dressmakers finish up all our costumes, fixing any wear and tear they might have after our dress rehearsals. I have to admit it is our ballet costumes that get the most work, since we have to make sure we can dance as well as possible with no slips or malfunctions, which always means at least one tutu is ripped on opening night.

There's been more than the usual chaos for our Hannibal though, since it's the new managers first opera and our first opening night in a long time without La Carlotta. Thankfully, Christine is a much sweeter diva. Nevertheless I've been somewhat busy, since removing one of our best dancers so as to let her sing as meant learning new routines in a matter of hours. Let's just say Madame Giry has had her work cut out for her.

"Elizabeth! Qu'est-ce que tu fais? C'est premiere le tendu et depuis le pirouette!" I lose my balance as she grips my waist to force me into an even higher turn, "Gravité n'existe pas, tu dois te rappeller le ballón!" Ah yes, ballón, that quicksilver dream of looking like you float or fly, I sometimes have a hard time looking like the delicate bird I'm supposed to resemble.

At last, our rehearsal is over and we are all rushed into our dressing rooms to transform into our characters.  
"Don't worry about Maman, Elizabeth, she is just nervous about Christine. You dance the part wonderfully!" says Meg to me as we wait in line for our makeup. "Well I'm not so sure about that. I'm mostly worried I'm going to forget the dance when Christine starts to sing!" I smile in return, "I hope Carlotta never comes back, her screeching was truly starting to turn me mad!"  
I can't hear Meg's reply since the ladies backstage are squawking at me, the rumor mill has been very busy speculating about the managers.

"I've heard M. André has a very fine house, and no wife to keep his bed warm at night. He might want a little exercise to get the heart pumping tonight!" purrs Brigitte, one of the other ballerinas, "Pas possible! Il ne veut pas se marier avec un petit poisson!" someone jeers, "I'm no fish I'm a mermaid!" cries back Brigitte with a scowl.  
I'm not interested in our mustachioed managers, they seem far too busy social climbing to ever bother with us. All I've heard them say is how wonderful running the opera is going to be for their social calendar!

"Alright girls, quiet down! In line now, the curtain will be up shortly and I want you all to be properly warmed up!" says Madame, effectively shutting the gossipers down. We start our work on the barre and I block everyone out.

* * *

"Brava! Bravissima! Stupenda!" cries out M. André enthusiastically as Christine takes her final bow. She was incredible; I nearly lost my place in the dance as she sang that romantic adieu in the form of an aria. Judging from the applause and amount of roses raining down on her, I think our audience agrees, as do our managers.

"Oh Christine congratulations!" beams Meg as her friend returns backstage, Christine is white as a sheet, except for two bright cheeks that betray her excitement.  
"Meg, I can't believe it. I must thank…" I can't hear who she considers her benefactor as she is dragged away by Madame to be greeted by the important people and enjoy the dressing room of a prima donna.

"Filles! We must change! Some prospective investors are coming to meet us, and some are bachelors!" shouts one of the ballerinas, the last remark causing quite a murmur among the girls. I'm dressed in my one nice dress, the grey satin and blue ribbon highlighting my eyes nicely, as the corps de ballet files into the foyer. We are meant to entertain and flatter any of the wealthy men who come to enjoy the opera. The idea is that they will come to enjoy it so much they will be willing to part with a pretty penny to ensure their enjoyment. I've never been much good at the flattery part of my job.

"The Duc d'Orleans is there in the corner, he looks quite bilious. The only reason I go is so his nephew might see me. He's the handsome blonde one beside him," Chloe is whispering to Meg and I when I see him. He is the stuff of dreams, black hair and black eyes and great height. His eyes roam distractedly around the room and I'm sure I've never seen him here at the opera before. "Who is he?" I say, trying not the betray my interest.  
"Oh isn't he a looker!" whistles Chloé, "I'm fairly sure that's the Duc de Magrit. Brigitte told me he was here and he's the only I don't recognize."

It is at this precise instant that the duke makes his way over to us, "Mesdemoiselles, I believe I am correct in recognizing those heavenly faces that danced across the stage this evening" he starts, as I simply gaze up into those intelligent and distinguished eyes. "You flatter us, Monsieur, we are only ornaments and stage props," simpers Chloé, she is quite good at the flirting.

They exchange quips as I simply stare dumbly at the nobleman.  
"Et vous, Mademoiselle? Est-ce que vous ne pouvez pas parler?"  
"Oh pardonnez-moi! I fear I've been quite lost in thought. How may I help you?"

Chloé cringes at my awkward manner, though thankfully the duke simply laughs in return "She speaks! Your dear friend and I wondered what your thoughts might be on the wonderful soprano who sang tonight." This is quite the right thing to say, since I could talk for hours about singing and very nearly do.

Most of the guests have taken their leave when I realize I've been monopolizing this man's time, and he's not just any man but a duke! "Bien! Je vous ai ennuyé!" I cry, "Oh you should have stopped my rambling on so long!"  
"But that would have left me without the joy of listening to you, and you looked quite charming as you described the clarity and precision of Mme Daae's voice. I shall look forward to hearing your thoughts when I next enjoy a visit to the opera" finishes the Duc with a flourish, as he drops a bow and makes his way to the door, "Adieu Madamoiselle…?"  
"Elizabeth Duval"  
"Au revoir Madamoiselle Duval" and he is gone.

* * *

 _Sunlight, daylight_

 _Shines a beam upon you_

 _Brightness, whiteness_

 _Sparkling in the gleam_

 _Suddenly the stars_

 _Seem to shine just like your eyes_

 _Slowly, gently_

 _Clouds draw back their darkness_

 _Grasp it, sense it_

 _Sunlight warms your skin_

 _Turn your face to it_

 _Block the blackness of the gloom_

 _Let the sunshine take away_

 _All thoughts of doom_

 _And start to sing the music of the light…_

I sing quietly to myself as I brush the tangles out of my dark hair. The rest of the crew is dancing and drinking and celebrating a successful opening night below, but I'm content to go to bed, where dreams of gypsy eyes and noble brows haunt my sleep, along with the tune that seems to come out of the very walls and that I can't stop humming.

* * *

 **A/N: So first the usual disclaimer that if you recognise things they probably aren't mine. Also just wanted to mention that obviously this little snippet of a song, which is our titular Music of the Light, is to the tune of Music of the Night which you can listen to here:** watch?v=TJHMMrVgd-I **. As always hope you enjoy it and would love some reviews!**


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